Wild And Innocent (Open)

[Rivre]

Mering happily allowed Serrulata to surpass him in both pace and forwardness, picking up his own gait so that he traveled at a soundless trot behind her silver wraith of a form. The last and thinner curtains of mist Sept around only his hooves, and he stirred a little at the thought of being spotted - it was too late for that. He had neared the end of his journey to find a creature of hidden oddities, either by misguided fortunes or misguided hope, he had found the mare which both he and this curious other sought.

High-stepping from the cloak of white, leaving a sweat-like sheen of water to his already damp coat, he almost started in surprise at the brumby's colouring. It was as if her pristine bay hide had been washed away by a bolt of lightening, leaving one part -jagged- an undisturbed white, his lobes flickering with interest. But it was only after he had managed to take in her striking appearance that Mering spotted what hung limply form her features, the half destroyed token of a man, and it unsettled him.
"Greetings 'O coloured mare of the mist, I am Mering named for the earth. What brings you to these parts?" Extending quivering grey nose in greeting, he eyed her with the same warm gaze he had given Serrulata, the almost silver grullo's quaking hide the only indication of his with-held interest in the pair. He was young enough, if these mares were to follow him, it would be of their own accord and Mering would not force them otherwise.

OOC; Sorry for crappy reply :L It's late and I have run out of my 'endless' muse.

[Shay]

The mists parted revealing a visage of gold and silver. Followed by the ghostly image of a stallion. It was his voice that reached her ears first. And to his words she would respond, with a question of her own, offering her own muzzle for a brief touch before speaking "Darl'n must a body have a reason to wander the lands?" The voice that rose held strange accents, the slow hauntingly sweet tenor of an American southern drawl. Lazy and charming all rolled into one.

Black tipped twins twitched as the scent of unease laced the musky masculine scent that belonged to the wraith like stallion. The change alerted her to the fact that he had noticed the halter hanging from her visage. Without any course of action to take the bi-colored mare fell back onto a mask. Some clung to silence or stuttered their way along awkward situations. Embar, she found amusement where others may not exactly think so.

A smirk of amusement crossed fiery features splashed in snow as those soft brown eyes switched from male to female. The palomino was a bit older then she herself was, and bore a melancholy gleam that for a moment was held at bay. A happy wicker of greetings was issued towards the palomino, stretching the tendons of her proudly arched neck in her direction. "Mering of the Earth.." Interesting name, again the word was foreign and strange to her ears, as much as she was sure her own name would sound strange to them. "Embar is my name, ifin y'all wished for it."

[aquiladorado]

”Serrulata,”[/i] replied the golden mare, introducing herself to the Paint as they touched noses. The Palomino was completely at ease with the new Brumby, despite the fact that she wore a halter that smelled of captivity. The wise old mare had seen her share of man, evaded him countless times, and was pleased to see that this patterned character had managed to escape his clutches – although she seemed to bear a constant reminder. Serrulata studied the halter, and noticed the efforts that had been made to remove it. Resting her large eyes on the painted mare, she offered her assistance. ”Greetings, Embar. Pardon my noticing, but that halter you wear – it is a burden you should not be forced to carry. Should you want some aid in removing it, I believe Mering and I would be capable of the task.”[/i]

The mare glanced to the young Grullo stallion. The look she gave him basically left no room for disagreement. The older mare hated to see that Embar had somehow earned her freedom yet was not completely able to rejoice in it. Serrulata knew what it felt like to be held back, and she intended to do whatever she could to spare the Paint from those same feelings.

OOC: Sorry, my muse is low for here XS

[Rivre]

Mering nodded graciously towards both the creamy and Embar, pacing towards her in a few quick strides. How unusual to still bear the mark of man upon her, for was it truly freedom if every living moment you shared, you shared with their rope halter?
Turning softening brown gaze back to Serrulata, he wondered at how she become so wise, for he knew that she was not as young as he - and he had much to learn- but neither was she old in any respect. Had she inherited her courage?
"I will help you Embar if that's what you desire - of course, I will also leave you be, as pretty as you are, if you do not wish to be molested by the likes of a young grey stallion" he chuckled, muscle flexing at his shoulders as he readied his jaws to loosen the odd thing.

With the spring, there came a great need for him to be gathering a herd, as there was with all stallions both young and old at this time; as he gazed curiously at the paint and then the silver cream, Mering knew that he would do anything to have them travel with him, for the pair were wisdom itself, Serrulata - who reminded him so much of his half sister, of beauty and of pain, and Embar, whose pelt was like lightening striking at the earth, cream and then bay so striking was the difference.

He would not force them by any means, for he knew that Serrulata was strong-willed from the way she spoke and that Embar was as free as himself in her own right, he would merely request it. But not yet.

[Shay]

The brush of velvet against velvet however brief brighten the mare's day considerably. Serrulata's quick offer of her own services as well as that of the young ghostly grey brute would come as a welcomed surprise. Long strands of earth and ice danced on a flicker of that tail. Muscles shifting beneath that prominently russet earthy coat with the play of her weight. The lively gleam shifted towards the stud as he to spoke. Amusement as the stud covered all his bases with that one statement, pretty slick at such a young age.

"Ifin y'all would be so kind, I would absolutely love get'n this thing off." Cranium would duck to scrap her cheek along the inside of one snowy white foreleg in emphases of her desire to be rid of the, at this point, vile thing. Lifting that dial back into the air, Embar regarded the two with a hopeful expression. It was the last tie to her previous life, one she hoped never to return to again. The first step in that assurance was removing any signs that she had known man. The next would be avoiding them at all costs. Granted her life hadn't been horrible beneath their heel, but it had been bad enough that no amount of prodding would push her back into their world.

Being washed up on this strange shore with its strange scents, accents, and personalities had been a blessing. She didn't know if she'd ever see the mountains of her homeland, or the beloved faces of her kin, but at least she was free now. Well....almost that is.

[Rivre]

OOC: Not replying don't worry x) Just to say AD, it would be easier if you assume Mering helps to get it off in your post, rather than do short one's between us =) don't mind you controlling that aspect of his being xD

[aquiladorado]

Serrulata chuckled at the remark from the young stallion, before she too readied herself to remove the halter. Even before Embar had agreed, the wise mare knew that she would want the wretched thing off – the Palomino could see, just as well as anyone else, the raw marks on that painted face where the man-made object had rubbed too deep. Once she had received approval, Serrulata moved closer with Mering not far behind.

After studying the halter, the golden mare had figured that if it could just be pulled over Embar’s ears it would free her. A strap that hung loosely beneath the other mare’s chin seemed like it could get in the way, but Serrulata figured it was worth a try anyways. Voicing her thought to the Grullo stallion, she played with her powerful jaws in an attempt to get a decent hold on the crown piece of the rope. It tasted foul – a mixture of ancient dirt and frayed strings – but she still bit down on the halter and waited for Mering. Once he had done the same, the golden mare gently tried to lift the thing and pull it down Embar’s face.

Thankfully the rope imprisonments cleared the Paint mare’s frame with room to spare, and slid to the ground into a coiled pile that resembled a snake. Serrulata remembered the last time she had found a snake waiting for a kill in her path – the irony of the resemblance was remarkable. Nickering a thank you to Mering, she returned her attention to Embar and gazed at her with warmth. ”Now, how does that feel?”[/i]

[Rivre]

Mering pulled gently at the sour tasting rope, feeling teeth grid teeth in an effort to release the paint mare's suffering. It fell to the rocky ground with a sigh of anger, anger at being removed from it's host; lowering his sharp gaze to the halter, Mering kicked out with a careful forefoot, sending it flying backwards and under his belly - away from the three who stood close together. Head nodding he snatched at the air in approval before turning his attention back to Serrulata, whose soft words quelled his ears to stillness.

Perhaps now was the time to ask? But as he fumbled around somewhat numb lips, he looked once again towards the silver creamy, feeling a sudden sense of smallness when compared to her age and wisdom. Would it be wrong -offensive even- to ask her to follow him? If not that it would be insensitive, considering what she had obviously lost...

Neck arching, her felt cream and dark grey ribbons fall to his neck and away again as the breeze took both mane and tail into it's wily-wily gale- the clouds which massed above threatening to pour the liquid droplets from their depths, blocking out the rays of sun and adding a ghost-like quality to the mysterious grulla.
"Embar," he nickered, leaning forwards so that he could rub her bay cheek on his own grey one, "Will you come with me? This spring will be good and the grazing plentiful, perhaps I shall protect you from man's want as well?"

Burning brown orbs betrayed the hope which he felt stirring in his limbs, the anger at her having been kept captive - he would not let harm come to her! Stretching up to his poll he felt a pride echo into his posture, a pride which only stallions could feel, a pride that his father had once told him he would own.